


Falling

by Lady Divine (fhartz91)



Series: Outside Edge [4]
Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, Boyfriends, Fluff, Hockey, Humor, Ice Skating, M/M, Teasing, Teen Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-05
Updated: 2017-05-05
Packaged: 2018-10-28 10:49:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10829730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fhartz91/pseuds/Lady%20Divine
Summary: While Kurt tries to teach his competition skaters a new move, Sebastian comes over to bug his boyfriend, just because he's an ass.





	Falling

**Author's Note:**

> We saw Sebastian make a fool out of himself in front of his own hockey players. I thought it would be fun to see him make a fool out of himself in front of Kurt's figure skaters xD Inspired by some of the trash talking between figure skaters and hockey players we see down at our rink ... and the tremendous amount of falling everyone does xD

“That’s good, that’s good. Very nice.” Kurt claps, encouraging his students as they twirl past him, some of them unsteadily. “That’s much better, yes.” He spots a potential mishap the second before it happens, but there’s no way for him to prevent it. All he can do is watch with nose scrunched and manage the aftermath. “Ooo. Are you ok?” He offers a hand to the girl who collided with another skater going into a turn, tripping over her toe pick and falling onto her knees on the ice.

“I … I think so, Coach Hummel,” the watery-eyed skater answers, grasping his arm and pulling herself up.

“Let’s take a look.” He examines her knees, takes a peek at her back, and declares her good to go. “Just skate it off, Lindsey. Skate it off. Come on, guys. That’s a good first effort. Let’s try it again. We don’t get better if we don’t practice.”

“How come it is that your students are always falling on their asses?” Sebastian asks, skating his way over to Kurt’s group, passing a puck between his blades.

Kurt skates away before Sebastian even finishes his sentence.

“No puck handling while classes are in session,” Kurt scolds. “You know the rules. If any of my kids trip and fall because you’ve got that thing over here …”

“Don’t worry about my puck,” Sebastian cuts him off, stopping with the puck between his skates. “Your kids do a fine job of falling all on their own.”

“Are you lost, Smythe?” Kurt asks, wordlessly redirecting his gamma students – his older, competition level group – to repeat the move they’ve been learning across to the other end of the ice. “Or are you over here looking for help with your salchow?”

“Kurt Hummel! Are you implying that my salchow’s somehow _lacking_?” Sebastian fakes a dramatic gasp. “Why, you wound me, sir!”

“Oh, I’m not _implying_ anything.” Kurt skates up to his boyfriend, arms crossed over his chest. “I’m _saying_ that your jumps are weak.” Kurt continues past him to join his students waiting and watching by the wall. “Maybe you should take a break from hockey for a while and sign up for my class, because lately it’s been looking to me like you might need a refresher.”

Kurt’s kids _ooo_ and giggle, but they know the two coaches aren’t fighting. Not for real. They’ve gotten used to these little displays by these two, who constantly find the need to pester one another. Coach Sebastian is a competitive figure skater like the rest of them. One of the best at the rink, second to Kurt (in their opinions). But as long as Sebastian is suited up in his hockey gear, he’s a hockey player, and it’s a common practice for the figure skaters and the hockey players to needle one another, fighting for rink supremacy.

Which belongs to the figure skaters, of course. Everyone knows that … except the hockey players, apparently.

It would be easier to shut them up, of course, if the All-State Figure Skating trophy and the All-State Hockey trophy on display in the cabinet in the lobby weren’t both the same size. Then they could end this feud once and for all.

“You know, if your kids are going to spend so much time crashing into each other anyway, they should come over to our end of the ice and get some gear on, play with my team. At least they’d be protected.”

Kurt sniffs. “Unlike you _heathens_ who bash into one another for fun, _we_ are perfecting our Mohawks. Falling is an unintended consequence of striving for technical perfection.”

“Coach Hummel says there’s no shame in falling,” Lindsey points out, sticking up for her coach. “Falling means you’re trying.”

“He would know.” Sebastian smirks. He may also take a peek at his boyfriend’s behind, but he does it so quick, no one notices.

“Are you saying I fall a lot?” Kurt asks, a cool fire burning in his blue-grey eyes.

“No. Not at all,” Sebastian says, desperate to backpedal. He’s not afraid of what Kurt might do to him _now_. Kurt’s can’t embarrass him. He can take whatever Kurt can dish out, and serve it back better. But he’s afraid of what Kurt might withhold later on. “What I mean is you try a lot.”

“Good save.”

“Thank you.”

A boy in a black hoodie on Sebastian’s right falls unprompted to the ice. Sebastian watches him land with an eyebrow arched.

“Hey, Kurt. He wouldn’t happen to be related to that little boy in your pre-alpha class who’s always wearing the puffy red jacket?”

“Findley?” Kurt asks, watching the boy climb back to his blades. “That’s his brother. How did you know?”

Sebastian shrugs. “Just a lucky guess. I’ll take him. Him I can definitely use.”

“ _How!_?”

“Are you kidding? The guy falls without warning standing completely still, which is apparently a family trait. Plus, he’s a skilled enough skater to be in your gamma class. He’s like a ticking time bomb. He’d be devastating!” Sebastian snickers, obviously with a picture brewing in his head of exactly _how_.

Kurt rolls his eyes, not only at his ridiculous boyfriend’s even more ridiculous statement, but at the fact that Jonathan, brushing ice off the sleeves of his Under Armour hoodie, actually looks proud of it.

“If you’re such the skater extraordinaire, why don’t you strap on your figure skates and give us a little demonstration? You can show us the Mohawk. Or do you want to start with something easier? A waltz jump maybe? A scratch spin? A bunny hop?”

Kurt’s students _ooo_ again while Kurt stares Sebastian down, waiting to see what he’ll do.

“Hmph. Shows what you know, Hummel. I don’t need to change into figure skates to demonstrate any of those. I can do them fine in my hockey skates. Watch this.”

Sebastian sets up, sticking his arms out to his sides. He raises his right foot to plant his blade down behind him and push off, but he’s forgotten his puck, which has migrated an inch or two behind him.

Kurt sees the impending danger, and this time, he has enough time to stop it.

“Sebastian, hold up,” Kurt says. “Your puck …”

But Sebastian is too stubborn to stop once he raises his leg.

“Yeah. Right. Nice one,” he says, but then a comical look of realization overwhelms Sebastian’s face as the back of his blade clips the puck, hitting at just the right angle that even though he compensates to catch himself, his feet fly out from under him. He takes to the air, going horizontal, and lands flat on his back.

The gamma group gasps, sympathizing with his pain, but Kurt shakes his head. He glides over and crouches by Sebastian’s side.

“That’s okay,” he says, patting Sebastian’s shoulder. “Falling means you tried.”


End file.
